


What Remains

by Nununununu



Category: England Series - K. J. Charles
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Ghosts, Haunting, Historical, Mystery, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27246643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: Neither of them had started their stay at the manor believing in anything so frivolous as spirits.
Relationships: Fenella Carruth/Patricia Merton
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	What Remains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scintilla10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/gifts).



> A gift for scintilla10, inspired by your prompt about a haunted mansion.
> 
> (Originally posted 31/10; re-dated for author reveals)

“ _Oh_ ,” Coming to a sudden stop in the doorway, her hand fluttering up to her mouth, Fen turns quickly away from the bath, “I do apologise.”

No one responds. The shadowy figure she had caught a glimpse of in the bathtub has gone.

“Again?” Pat’s mouth is pressed into a grim line where she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Again,” Collecting her brush, Fen scuttles back into the bedroom, “I don’t think it wants to harm us?” She purses her lips in consideration as she plops herself on the mattress behind the other woman, “At least, it _hasn’t_ harmed us.”

“Yet,” Glancing over at the revolver set within reach on the dresser, Pat amends.

~

Neither of them had started their stay at the manor believing in anything so frivolous as spirits, although their host, Lady Chalmondley, very much did and clearly expected as much at least of Fen.

In the spirit of being a good guest, she therefore set forth to coo and dimple with the rest of the small party, while Pat not quite discretely rolled her eyes, Fen letting out a small squeak when the table rattled at dinner or some of the service scattered down onto the floor as if swept there by an unseen hand.

Pat had been more interested in the missing guest.

“It’s all just arranged somehow in advance as a lark, of course,” Fen had mused, on considering how the trick had been achieved with the cutlery, and Pat had hmm’ed and put her arm around Fen to squeeze her comfortably, Fen taking the opportunity to snuggle into her side.

“But what about Mrs Warrington?” Pat had said.

“Taken with a headache, or so Lady Chalmondley informed us,” Fen had provided with the full knowledge her lover had tuned out their host about a minute into the older woman’s soliloquy about ghosts and the history of her supposedly haunted mansion.

“Hmm,” Had been all Pat had to say on the topic once more back then, but when the lights had started to shake and rattle, and the fire had set itself alight the next morning and Pat had nearly shot at a figure standing at the curtains, Fen had cautiously posited the theory that perhaps their hostess was correct.

She wasn’t as thrilled about it as the rest of the party believed; with them, she jumped and shrieked at each breeze. With Pat, she simply rested her chin upon her fist and considered the missing Mrs Warrington and the curtains and the cutlery, and had suggested a little sojourn around the manor’s extensive corridors, given the small matter of the rainstorm throwing itself at the shutters outside.

Mrs Warrington’s supposed room, on her cautious investigation, had proved empty.

~

“Mrs Warrington?” Fen now addresses the ghost. Pat is stood within arm’s reach beside her, revolver aimed at the floor – the ghost too much of a shadow to shoot.

Besides, it still hasn’t sought to harm them yet.

“I’m sorry you didn’t manage to go to the party,” Fen, accompanied by her lover, has been doing some research. _I’m so sorry someone quite possibly killed you and no one here seems to realise._

That will need to be more delicately phrased – and properly investigated. It seems she and Pat will have plenty to occupy themselves with for the remains of their stay.

“Fen,” Pat warns her with a hand upon her shoulder. The taps in the bathroom are leaking upwards. The towels are stirring, looking set to follow. The gas lights flash – on, off – this manor having nothing so modern as electricity.

There is an unpleasant stain darkening the tub.

“Why don’t we hold a party for you?” Fen offers the ghost, “I’ll speak to Lady Chalmondley and see it arranged. I don’t see why all the guests couldn’t attend.”

Their host could answer some rather interesting queries Fen has for her as well.

The restoration of proper gravity along with the calming of the flickering lights causes Pat to sag just the slightest bit, before her shoulders straighten back out. Fen links her fingers with her lover and smiles at her, and then at the third party present.

“Come on, let’s go and request it of our host,” She gestures with her free hand for the ghost to lead the way.

If anything, given their host’s love of the supernatural, she suspects Lady Chalmondley will be delighted.


End file.
